


Born to Run

by Enide_Dear



Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-09 05:21:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7788268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enide_Dear/pseuds/Enide_Dear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sort of a followup on Wings of a Demon. The boys are in a kind of messy relationship and one day Peter goes missing. Kurt wil go to any lenghts to get his boyfriend back, but what about Warren?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

”Varren. Varren, vake up!” Warren grumbled and tried to pull a pillow over his head but the hand was insistent, shaking him awake.   
“What?!” Hair and wings askew, Warren finally looked up on the blue boy sitting crouched on the edge of the big bed. “It’s….” he glanced at the alarm clock “Christ, it’s 5.30 in the morning, Kurt!” He tried to fall back into bed but Kurt wouldn’t let him. His yellow eyes were burning with concern as he shook his boyfriend awake once more.   
“You must vake up, Varren! Peter is missing!” His tail twitched like an agitated cat’s.  
“Well, good riddance to him,” Warren muttered, trying to pull the covers over his head. He might have to share Kurt’s love with the other man but it didn’t mean he *liked* him. At all. Especially not since he had to share Kurt with him. Warren made an attempt to sneak his arms around Kurt and pull him down into the bed as well – no one was as cuddly as Kurt – but the boy slipped away and a spaded tail slapped Warren’s leg.   
“I am serious, Varren! I can’t find Peter! I am concerned!” Kurt all but hissed.  
“Look, he probably got the munchies for fish and chips and ran over to England or something. You know what he is like. He’ll be back.” Warren sighed.   
“At 5 in the morning?! And he’s been gone for fifteen minutes!” Now Kurt was jumping up and down on the bed and Warren gave up all hope on sleep. Kurt was obviously very upset.  
He frowned as he thought about it. Peter wasn’t exactly known to be an early riser; more often than not Kurt had to drag the man out of the bed the three of them shared. And fifteen minutes? The man could run halfway across the country and back again in that time. Ignoring his own sting of worry, Warren sat up and rubbed his eyes and tried to smooth down his hair and wings, muttering under his breath as he started to pull on clothes. He tossed a t shirt at Kurt who was still just in his boxers.   
“Put this on. You’ve checked the kitchens?”  
“Ja, everywhere on campus. Well, not anyones private rooms, of course, but why would he go there?” Kurt struggled into the t shirt and a pair of pants.  
“He wouldn’t. I’ll take a flight over the park, see if he is around.” Not that he could imagine Peter hanging around amongst the trees at the crack of dawn, but Kurt’s worry was contagious and he’d gotten kind of used to the silverhair on the pillow on the other side of Kurt. “You keep checking the mansion.”  
::::::::::::::::  
At 8 o clock the rest of the students were awake and at breakfast, but no Peter was in sight and no one had seen him. That made Kurt almost frantic with worry; Peter wasn’t known for missing food. Warren rolled his eyes and tried to calm him; after all Peter was a grown man and Kurt was totally overreacting. Most of the students and teachers agreed with Warren and tried to calm Kurt and no one was ready to start a search party before at least 24 hours had gone.   
“He’ll be back, Mr Wagner.” Professor Xavier tried to calm him. “Mr Maximoff is not exactly the most diligent of students. He’s been known to take a day of without leave before.”  
“But not without telling me!” Kurt wrung his hands but Charles just shook his head.   
“Let’s not start anything rash. If he is still gone tomorrow then we will start searching.”  
“C’mon babe.” Warren put an arm and a wing around his smaller boyfriend and led him away, trying to sooth the tears dripping down Kurt’s face.   
::::::::::::::::::  
“Look, just calm down.” It was difficult to sprawl in a chair when you had wings getting in the way, but Warren had had practice. “Peter will come back, say something goofy and be sorry he upset you, in a day or two. He’s….”- a complete jackass –“unreliable sometimes.”  
“Nein.” Kurt was pacing the floor. “Not like this. He wouldn’t leave us like this, never!”  
“You.” Warren poked at a spike on his jacket. “He wouldn’t leave *you* like this. Not us.”  
“Waz?!” Kurt spun around, complete confusion on his pretty face. Warren groaned, sinking lower into the chair.  
“Oh come on, blue. You know me and Peter don’t get along well. The only reason we’re even talking is because of you.”  
“But….you have so much in common?” He said perplexed.  
“You! We have you in common, Kurt!” Angry against his will, Warren scowled. “That’s all!”  
“Your fathers…..”  
“Don’t start, blue!” Warren warned and Kurt sighed and dropped it. Warren sighed as well and tried to mollify his boyfriend. “Look, if he’s not here tomorrow you know professor X will send out a whole squad to look for that looser, and start using that brain machine of his as well. We’ll find Peter.” He gently took Kurt’s hand and pulled him into his lap, kissing his neck and stroking his hair. “We’ll find him.”

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Peter didn’t come back the next day. Warren had fallen asleep somewhere around 3 in the morning, exhausted, but from Kurt’s more-than-normally red eyes he hadn’t slept at all when the sun rose and Warren couldn’t help but secretly hate Peter for putting Kurt through this. It was just another proof of the man’s selfishness and unreliability. True, Warren wasn’t the most stable person himself, but he would never have done this to Kurt. Never.

Despite Warren’s grumblings, professor Xavier put together several search teams to scour the city – the pizza huts, the record stores, the mall, Peter’s mother’s house – any of the guy’s usual haunts. Warren elected to stay behind in the mansion close to the phone in the off chance that the man called or came back. The teams would be checking in with him every hour and the professor would use Cerebro to try and track Peter. Despite his exhaustion and Warren’s extreme protests Kurt followed Jubilation to the mall, leaving Warren grumbling and smoking in an empty mansion.

It became an increasingly boring day with no progress and restlessness sent Warren pacing back and forth across the floor by the phone. He was restless, being cooped up here, and he worried about Kurt. Just Kurt, of course. But damn Peter! Where was the man? Worry started to creep into Warren, despite his best efforts; he’d been convinced that this had just been the slackers idea of a joke or just his shallowness showing – he didn’t really care for Kurt, after all, not the way Warren did – but if so then he would have come back by now. Or been found. 

Warren found himself twitching at the slightest sound or wind, convinced that he spotted silverhair, a dorky smile, those stupid goggles. With nothing to do other memories kept intruding on his brain; the way Peter laughed, so easily and often, the tender little way he kissed Kurt’s neck and ruffled Warren’s wings, the way he always seemed to know when Warren was bored out of his mind in class and then did something stupid and funny to drag a smile or a laugh out of him.

The way he kissed when, in the tangled darkness of their bed, they reached beyond Kurt and….

He pushed that thought away. No. No, he cared about Peter only because of what he meant to Kurt! Because he couldn’t bear to see Kurt hurt he would help Peter. Yes. That was it. And from the look of it he would have to do it himself, because these people were pretty damn useless at finding people. 

Evening came and with it a bunch of morose and tired mutants with nothing to show for their day’s work. Not even professor X had found a trace of Maximoff. Kurt was asleep in the car when Jubilation drove up to the mansion and Warren carried him to his bed, kissing his forehead and Kurt twitched restlessly in his sleep. Poor little Kurt. Better he sleep through what Warren was about to do. 

Warren sneaked out quietly, stopping only to listen in the doorway when the others reported their lack of success to the professor.

“We’ve searched everywhere, professor!” Scott leaned his head tired in his hands. “Every fast food place in town, every bar or music club, every cinema…”

“All over the city,” Jean agreed. “I mean even places he wouldn’t go, like libraries, art galleries….”

“All over the mall.” Jubilation was rubbing her aching feet. “All the malls. Maybe he’s keeping away from us on purpose. I mean, it wouldn’t be hard for him to do.”

“He is not in any of the parks either,” Ororo added. “Or at his mother’s place.”

Warren rolled his eyes. Unbelievable. These people were truly unbelievable. They were such damn goodie-goodies that they didn’t even know how blind they were. He sneered and padded out on soft feet. 

There was a whole damn city out there where they didn’t even know to look. 

The bad side of the city


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Warren searches the city for Peter and finds a lot of unwanted things. Like bad old memories and new feelings

The bad side of the city was not what people thought it was. Most people thought it meant the poor part of town, and yeah, there were undoubtedly bad things happening there as well. But in Warren’s experience – far too much experience for a 19-year-old – poor people just didn’t have the money to be truly bad. You had to be filthy rich for that.

He took to the sky, soaring over the city’s night-sky until he found a roof-top party. There where live-orchestra music, clinging champagne glasses, people in clothes that shimmer and shone in the tasteful light.   
There were also all the signs for someone who knew what to look for. Warren knew and when he landed he was greeted by familiar faces, a number of assault rifles that the guards quickly put away at the hostess’ sign, and a waiter offering him his choice in canapés, alcohol or drugs. He declined all but an unopened bottle of beer and went into the throng of beautiful people.

It took him about two hours to conclude that none of the hobnobs knew anything about a missing mutant. He got a number of truly hair raising shocking nasty offers -or what he assumed these people thought was shocking offers - a few business proposals and got his ass pinched repeatedly, but had nothing else to show for his efforts. He swept of the roof around midnight, heading hard east. 

There was a stud farm some way outside New York and it actually had honest-to-god horses in the fields outside and in some of the stables. It was private properly, but Warren had been there before and the place was never really asleep. He felt cold to the core when he was let in; in this place they would cater to anything *anything* you wanted in flesh and sex, assuming you had money. This was far beyond what some would-be-perv on the streets could even dream about. Humans of course, of all ages and sexes and in between. Freaks and weirdoes. Animals. Mutants. 

He’d been here twice, when he was really, really desperate for money because he was beautiful and yet weird enough to strike on people’s kinks. Nothing too weird had happened – his beautiful body and wings were enough – but still it filled him with dread. If Peter was here there was no telling what would have happened to him. 

Honestly he didn’t think Peter would be here, though. The guy was a mutant, yes, but not obviously one, and he just wasn’t handsome enough to strike on people’s kinkiness. *Their loss. They don’t know how sexy he is when he grins, how adorably dorky he is. They will never know or care how warm-hearted and sweet he is….* Warren killed the thoughts immediately. He was retrieving Peter for Kurt’s sake. That was it!

The host knew him, greeted him warmly and asked with a lewd smile if he needed money again. Warren put on his best bad boy behaviour, smirked and showed a wad of cash he’d filched from professor X earlier that day when the man was busy with Cerebro. He was here to buy, not sell, he claimed and got walked around the ‘stable’.

He got out with no sign of Peter and a dead determination to see the place scoured from the face of the earth at the soonest possible opportunity. 

He was losing time; it was four in the morning and Kurt would probably wake up at some god-awful hour to resume looking for Peter. And if Warren wasn’t there either…. there was no telling what kind of breakdown his little blue would have. Not to mention what could be happening to Peter, right now, in this very moment, just because Warren couldn’t find him.

Violently repressing just about any emotion that threatened to emerge, Warren landed outside a middle-class apartment complex. Hesitating outside, he clenched and unclenched his fists; this was by far the most familiar place to him and from the subtle signs outside the place was still up and running, probably without most of the tenants even knowing. *Kurt. I’m doing this for Kurt.* He told himself as he stepped inside, shoving the mental image of silverhair from his mind. 

The nightwatch gave him a suspicious glance, and one more when he said:  
“I’m here to see Steve. Steve with the flowers.”  
“That password is a month old.” The guard gave him a once-over. “But there’s no mistaking those wings, eh? You know the way, son.”  
Warren did. He went into the elevator, pressed 5-7-9-2 in rapid succession and the elevator started to smoothly move – downwards. 

The fighting pit was just as he remembered it; a lit up cage in which blood was flying, teeth were broken, lives were ruined. And outside all these people howling and cheering on the madness like rabid animals. There were drugs here too; the bad kind, alcohol; the bad kind and sex in the semi secluded nooks; probably also the bad kind. Too look like he belonged Warren grabbed a bottle of beer a flirty woman handed him and took a swig, but his eyes were focused on the cage. Two men were fighting inside, with fists and kicks and teeth, so probably not mutants, but there were too many people in the way to make out for sure. He glanced up, rubbing his head; the late hour, the sweaty press of people and the alcohol was getting to him, but he pulled himself together. The ceiling was high for all that this was underground and he soared up, steeling himself to look into the cage.

Peter wasn’t there.

Relief flooded him; he felt almost dizzy with it. Very dizzy. *Damn it. The beer….it had been opened.* He felt himself spin out of control as his wings no longer supported him and by the time he crashed into greedy hands tugging at him, he was already unconscious.

:::::::::::::::::  
Warren fought his way out of the drug’s coma slowly; the first thing he became aware of was fingers moving slowly, pleasantly through his hair and that his head was cushioned on what appeared to be a constantly vibrating leg. He tried to scowl but wasn’t sure his face really responded correctly.

“Peter, stop that, damn it.” He managed to mutter. “You are making me seasick.”

“Yeah, it’s good seeing you to.” That stupid grin came into focus, leaning over him. “You look cute when you pout.”

“I’m not pouting.” A huge part of him wanted to just lay there in Peter’s lap – at least if he stopped the damn spastic motion – but that evil, self-hating part of him that always seemed to win out forced Warren to try to sit up on his own to save his dignity, even though he felt dangerously nauseous. A warm hand on his back steadied him, rubbing between the wings, just where it always itched and were he couldn’t quite reach on his own. He allowed himself the luxury for a short while, then turned around.

Peter was sitting there, looking a bit worse for wear but not dangerously so; he had a black eye and a split lip and there was a makeshift bandage around his ankle that looked like someone with no medical training had tried to patch up themselves. But he smiled as warm as ever and he was alive. Alive! The absolute relief flooding Warren made him want to cry and sob and hug the man to his chest. But he couldn’t. He just couldn’t. Instead he forced his face into a scowl.

“What fucking mess have you gotten yourself into this time?”

Peter looked at him, unusually perceptive, taking in the clothes soiled with alcohol and grime and sweat from flying around all night, the tired face, the mask of toughness that had fallen off for just a few seconds when he realized Peter was alive. He smiled his most nerdy smile.

“Only way I’ll answer is if you hold my hand.” He reached out his hand – it was dirty and there were blood on the nailbeds – and Warren stared at it as if it was a snake.

*He is such a fucking moron, I don’t know how Kurt even stands him.* Warren sighed and took the hand, ignoring the way Peter scuffled closer.

“We’re in the fighting pits again.” Peter sighed and Warren rolled his eyes because of course the looser had to start in the wrong end of a story and on top of that state the obvious. Peter shuffled closer. Warren kept ignoring it. “I had to fight a couple of times. No biggie. It’s not as if anyone can catch me.”

Warren gave him a pointed look, at his face and at his leg. Peter shuffled even closer and Warren ignored it even harder. 

“Yeah, not until last night when they broke my ankle. That got….bad.”

“How bad?” Warren heard himself growl. By now Peter was sitting next to him, leaning his head on Warren’s shoulder and it was impossible to ignore. His wing curled around Peter who was warm and alive next to him.

“I’m still alive, aren’t I?” Peter shrugged but didn’t protest as Warren lifted up his leg and unwrapped the bandage. 

Warren stared at the bloody rags and tried not to think about horribly mutilating however had done this to his boyfriend. *Kurt’s boyfriend.* He quickly corrected himself but then sighed. Damn it, if he wasn’t even fooling Peter….

Cold sweat of pain broke out on Peter’s face as Warren, as gently as he could, reapplied the bandages a bit better. The bone was definitely broken.

“How did you end up here?” He frowned. It wasn’t a place you really stumbled on by mistake. 

“Got a letter.” Peter mopped the sweat from his brow with his arm. “Said my father wanted to meet me.”

There was a bit of quiet and then Warren said.

“That’s the most awfully stupid trap I’ve ever heard of. Don’t tell me you fell for that?!”

Peter had the decency to blush.

“Look, I know it was stupid, alright? But I just…had to hope.”

“Yeah. Well.” Warren couldn’t continue. He wasn’t sure what he’d do for his father’s acceptance. He wasn’t aware of it, but his hand crept behind Peter in something close to a hug. “You got all the X men looking for you. Kurt almost had a heart attack when you were gone – shit!” He suddenly bolted upright, knocking his head on the bars. “What time is it?! How long was I out?!”

“I don’t know, man, they put you in here almost three hours or so I guess.” Peter’s eyes widened. “Oh no, little ‘crawler is going to break down if you are gone to!”

“Shit! Shitshitshitshitshit!” Warren started pacing the small cage. “Kurt’s never going to fix this!” Kurt was too vulnerable, too sensitive, too caring. How would he ever handle both of his boyfriends just….disappearing?

“We have a bigger problem right now.” Peter got up on his bad leg, staring at something behind Warren. 

“What?!” Warren snarled. How could anything ever be more important than taking care of Kurt?!

“It’s fighting time again.” Peter nodded and Warren turned around to see two men with uzis approaching the cage, sneering at the two caught mutants. Adrenaline started pumping through his veins and his wings snapped out behind him.

“Oh yeah? Well, I’m gonna crush them, whoever they are! You better do the same, Peter. We gotta come back to Kurt! Who will we be fighting?”

Peter gave him an almost pitying look.

“Dude,” he sighed. “Who do you think you’ll fight?” And he made a small gesture to himself


	4. Chapter 4

To Warren’s growing despair Peter couldn’t fight worth a shit.

 

Oh, he was fast and all, and he could use that speed and motion and momentum and all that other crap professor McCoy rambled on and on about during physics, but he couldn’t actually *fight*. Couldn’t block because he’d never had to. Couldn’t take a punch. Couldn’t throw an actual punch, damn it!

 

It made Warren sick to his stomach because right now Peter needed to fight him if he was to survive.

 

The crowd was wild tonight; they expected blood one way or another and the men with the uzis were there to make sure they got what they’d paid for. The roar of people was like a massive tidal wave threatening to break them both. 

 

Peter’s leg made him vulnerable and all but useless. He could sprint but only short distances and even that was wearing him down. If Warren had been anyone else, the silver boy would have been dead meat a long time ago. 

 

It fell to Warren to keep them both alive. Warren could fight; he’d done so more times than he liked to think about. He knew what a fight looked like, the back and forth, the use of mutant abilities and how to avoid them. 

 

After tonight he figured he’d know a lot about acting as well.

 

Peter threw a punch at him and Warren blocked it with his wings, swinging at his unprotected belly, driving the air from him, finished off with a sharp wing claw to his sternum let it hit his jaw and Gods damn it it didn’t even split his lip. He bit down on the inside of his cheek as he pretended to reel back so that he could at least spit out some blood. If they ever got out of here the first thing the’d do was drag Peter’s sorry ass over to the Danger room and show him how to fight for real! Maybe even bring Kurt along if he could convince sweet, non-violent, pacifistic Kurt the need to learn some moves.

 

Warren took of upwards as the crowd cheered and booed, once more searching desperate for a way out that didn’t involve killing Peter or getting killed himself. He couldn’t find any. Damn it, he couldn’t find any way out! He saw Peer make the small gesture that he was ready for another spurt; he dove down and kicked him in the back only to have Peter speed away and slam Warren against the fence. It looked impressive and the crowd went frantic but really there was no strength left in Peter’s attack. He was grey faced with pain from his broken leg and there was nothing Warren could do to save him. 

 

You have to kill him. A dark part of Warren’s mind said. Even if you let him kill you he’ll never survive another battle. You have the better chance of survival, of getting back to Kurt. It’s not as if you even like Peter! You are a survivor, always has been, and it’s better one of you return to Kurt than none. 

 

In that instance Peter stumbled. Warren hadn’t even touched him, but he stumbled on his broken leg and screamed hoarsely as a shard of bone suddenly protruded out through his skin. He went ashen white and fell and the crowd roared for the kill.

 

Warren knew what he needed to do, the only merciful thing that was left. Wings flashed out and he fell on Peter like a bird of prey. 

 

 

White wings surrounded Peter. White wings sheltered him, from people and noise, and made a space only for them. He was hoisted up, almost unconscious with pain and felt dry beer tasting lips on his own. 

 

 

“I love you, you piece of shit.” Warren muttered in his ear and Peter tried to smile through the pain and the fact that they would soon both die. 

 

 

Warren rose up with Peter in his arms, flashing his wings and ready to tear the throat out of anyone who came close enough to harm them. But of course they wouldn’t come close; they would shoot them through the bars and they would both die and oh gods he didn’t want to die or see Peter die and he wished he could have told Kurt to that he loved him just once….

 

And then all Hell broke loose, almost literally. 

 

A demon, howling in a rage that was not even close to humane, tore through the wall in a cloud of fire and brimstone in a full-out attack that ripped through the first guard, strong blunt claws and sharp teeth shredding his face in an instant. The second man simply disappeared – only to appear five meters up, plummeting into the panicking crowd and breaking face and bones as he fell. Another guard got his uzi and probably a lot of skin on the palms of his hands torn from him even as he was choked and slammed repeatedly into the electrified fence. There was a howl in the air that no human had any right to be able to make and a thin haze of blood that sprayed over the room. 

 

By the time the rest of the X Men had managed to press their way through the throng of people desperate to escape, there were no one with a weapon still moving in the room and Kurt was tearing at the chain holding the cage door locked. 

 

“Step back, Nightcrawler, I’ll –“ Scott started, fumbling at his glasses but cut himself short as Kurt turned and made a sound that wouldn’t be out of place coming from a male lion. Scott prudently backed off. 

 

Strong, three fingered hands pried the chain off and slammed the door open, ‘porting in to his two boyfriends who stared at him with the same slack-jawed awe as the rest of the X men. Sobbing with relief to see them he threw himself at both of them, wrapping his arms and legs and tail around them and without further ado ‘ported them towards the institute. 

 

The rest of the X men where left standing in an empty fighting cellar, waving away brimstone smell.

 

“Well,” Jean sighed. “I guess this means we’re walking home.”


	5. Epilogue

Two days later Warren tried to ignore the way the rest of the X men were staring at him. He’d found what he’d thought was a quiet little nook for a smoke and when he’d looked up from his revives Scott, Jean, Jubilation and Ororo were staring down at him. He scowled at them and went back to staring out the window but he could feel their stares at his back. 

 

“What?!” he finally snarled, flicking the cig butt away. 

 

“Are you alright Warren?” Ororo asked concerned, which he supposed she had a right to do, being the closest thing to a friend he had outside Kurt and Peter. 

 

“Why wouldn’t I? It was just fake fighting. Hell, Jubilation hit me harder when I borrowed some cookies from her stash last week.” She’d hit him damn hard with a right hook in fact, but he wasn’t about to admit to that. “I’m fine.” He sighed as he saw their looks. “Peter is the one who is hurt. Kurt is with him. I just….needed some space.” Space to figure shit out in, not that it was any of these guys business. 

 

“Yes, about Kurt….” Scott started but didn’t seem to know how to finish.

 

“Are you guys ok?” Jean finished for him.

 

“Why shouldn’t we be?” Warren frowned. What the hell were they after?

 

“After you guys disappeared Kurt went….he went ballistic.” Jubilation added quietly. “I mean, I have never seen anything like it. And what he did at that fighting cage….” She went quiet, shuddering.

 

“He frightened me,” Scott said in a very scared little voice.

 

Warren blinked. *This* was what they were worried about?! With everything that happened, with Peter being hurt and Warren having to admit to actual gods-damned *feelings* and Kurt being worried and Warren having to face up to being in an actual relationship and actually caring and the utter embarrassment of confessing he loved someone, *this* was what they were concerned about? Kurt being badass?

 

“Really? ‘Cause it’s turned me on like all Hell.” He smirked, staring up at their shocked faces. Gods, they really were so damn innocent, weren’t they? How could he ever even begin to explain what a relief it was to *not* having to be the hero, not be the only one he himself could rely on, to have an actual safety line to fall back on if – when – things went to hell. To know that someone cared about him and could save him. To not have to be strong and alone, just for once. He laid back, spreading out his wings decadently all over the window bench and pulled a drag on his cig. “Yeah, I kinda like this whole damsel in distress thing. And you guys know Kurt loves to play hero. Maybe me and Peter….”

 

“Peter and I,” Jean mumbled automatic correction.

 

“Me and Peter should get ourselves some of them ale house wrenches outfits and Kurt could get a pirate outfit and we could get things like really steamy….” He grinned evilly to himself as the others fled from hearing more about the pervy little fantasy and finally leaving him the Hell alone. 

 

“Well, maybe the dresses are taking it a bit far,” he mumbled to himself. “But I bet Kurt would look hot as Hell in a pirate outfit.”

 

The End


End file.
